The Christmas Olympics

Fifteen Years in the Making

I woke to a splitting headache, a second of disorientation, and a spinning room, but slowly the pieces fell into place and I'd recalled the copious amounts of alcohol I'd consumed that had lead me to demanding Arden take me home to sleep in her guest room.

I stared at the ceiling, contemplating the night before. Pieces of it were missing, I just hoped they weren't important pieces.

I closed my eyes again and allowed myself to be consumed by Arden's scent. I lifted the neck of the sweater to my nose. I loved sleeping in her clothes.

My stomach twisted with the wanting that had manifested itself last night every time Arden leaned in close. I felt like this attraction had been a slow trickle, a small dent in the giant dam—but last night the entire thing came crumbling down and it hit me all at once. I hadn't felt desire like this in years.

Our kiss in the bar came rushing to the forefront of my mind and try as I might to resist its temptations, I indulged in the memory for a moment before I shook my head and pushed myself from the comfort of the bed. It wouldn't do to dwell on Arden like that. Nothing good could come from it.

I went to the bathroom. While in the hall, the soft sound of Arden's record player spinning another vinyl flitted throughout the house. I couldn't quite put into the words the sensation that fell over me in that moment, but it covered me like a weighted blanket and held me, filling my heart.

I stepped into the bathroom and found Arden had left me a towel. I decided to quickly shower before venturing into the living room, hoping a warm shower would both rejuvenate me and clear my head.

When I emerged, Arden was in the same position as the last time: sitting on the couch with a book propped up on her legs and a coffee mug in hand. She wore matching pajamas with Christmas trees printed on them. My heart constricted.

I didn't have time to observe her unimpeded, however, as she turned her head the moment I stepped into the room.

"Good morning sunshine," she said with a teasing smile. "How do you feel?"

"Better than I thought."

"I'm telling you those vitamins really help."

I smiled at the memory of Arden shoving vitamins into my hand before I passed out last night. I still wasn't convinced of their mysterious powers, but I had to admit I was feeling much better.

Arden gestured to the coffee mug on the coffee table. "That's for you. I heard you in the shower so I made you a cup. That glass of water is your too."

"You're a saint," I said. I grabbed the cup of water and downed the entire glass, then reached for my coffee. I sipped the coffee and my taste buds tingled in delight. "This is so good. Thank you."

We lapsed into a comfortable silence while I sipped on my coffee and Arden watched me curiously. I met her gaze and smiled while I tried to puzzle out the strange expression on Arden's face, a look I couldn't quite place. Instead, I asked her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like how you are."

Arden took a sip of her coffee. "I'm not looking at you like anything."

"Okay, weirdo." I couldn't shake the feeling Arden was turning something over in her head concerning me, but I dropped it.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes, but you don't have to make me food."

"Of course I do, you're my guest."